


with every breath, I fall deeper

by arashian155



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arashian155/pseuds/arashian155
Summary: He ignores it the first time it happens, then the second, then the third, and so on. Years go by and he has no choice but to face it anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction came to be after I stumbled upon a story so beautiful, it inspired me to write something for the ship I'm currently most emotionally invested in: HijiGin.  
> For those who don't know hanahaki disease: it's completely, 100% fictional and has no realistic background whatsoever.  
> For those who do know hanahaki disease: I've altered just a few things about this disease to fit with Gintama's universe, so it might not be exactly like how you're expecting it to be.  
> With that being said, I genuinely hope you enjoy reading this fanfic as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

The first time he coughed a white petal was during the fall-out of the Shinsengumi, when everything they'd ever worked for, everything they'd ever treasured and protected, was falling apart right in front of his very eyes and he could only watch with disgusting helplessness. 

More specifically, it happened when he decided to give it one last try, a last try to save their Commander, save their Shinsengumi, and maybe even their Edo. It happened just a bit after he gained enough confidence to push the barrack's gate open again because he was told, "you can still protect both." 

That first time he coughed up a petal wouldn't have been worth noticing if it wasn't for the fact that it was in the middle of winter, with no blooming trees to inhale or swallow their petals by mistake. 

That being said, he remembers coughing just a few times here and there, shoving the whole matter to the back of his mind to focus more on the upcoming battles.   
And after the Shinsengumi left Edo, save for the first two days - in which he experienced frequent episodes of coughing - it went away, and he forgot all about it.

 

 

 

  
He coughed up a couple of petals during their fight with Utsuro, in the middle of life-or-death battles, surrounded by corpses of comrades and enemies alike. He didn't even have time to register the reoccurrence of these coughing fits when his men's lives were taken one by one, when Utsuro attacked Kondou-san and Sougo and cut Yamazaki's neck open and tore at his chest with his sword, of course he'd cough! The petals? When the whole thing was over and they were all slowly picking themselves up, when he had to sit down and rationalize it, he blamed it on Hedoro, he was near that flower monster at some point after all. Go figure.

The nagging feeling that something was not right barely had time to spark before it was burned out by the discovery of the Yorozuya's disbandment and Sakata Gintoki's disappearance. 

 

 

 

  
He experienced two violent but short lasting coughing fits when he met Gintoki after two years separation and when he chased him back to Edo. 

Another life-or-death battle took place and the matter was yet again forgotten. 

 

 

 

  
He's sitting in the park the Shinsengumi once shared with the Yorozuya, surrounded by just about every face he recognizes in Edo (and many he doesn't even remember seeing before, like that stupid-looking perm head with the loudest, most obnoxious laugh he's ever heard, dumbest sunglasses, and who's getting along too well with Kondou-san to the point it's unsettling) when he suddenly finds the spot next to him occupied by Gintoki. It's just like years ago, when they first shared drinks here, under sakura trees in bloom as well, only this time: they're shoulder to shoulder instead of back to back. 

"I hope you've brought back more sake to add to the stash you gave me," Gintoki says, giving him a playful smirk. "You've traveled enough to have an impressive collection." 

Hijikata scoffs. "As if I had that kinda time!" He squints at Gintoki. "Plus, I'm sure you haven't even managed to touch any of that sake I gave you, with everything that's been going on these last years." 

"Finished about half of it in the first week," Gintoki replied. 

"What!? That's some strong stuff I got there, that's why I told you to drink it bit by bit, you idiot!" Hijikata gave him a disbelieving look. "What were you thinking? Trying to kill yourself!?" 

Gintoki pointedly looked away with a blank face, which slowly morphed into a resigned smile as he murmured, "you did say you were coming back once I've finished it all." 

Hijikata blinked, trying to take in the meaning of what Gintoki just said.

The moment he did, his body tensed and a violent coughing fit overtook him. It lasted about 20 seconds, which was enough to draw attention from anyone nearby. 

"Hey, you okay?" Gintoki asked, voice hesitant and almost concerned. 

As soon as he caught his breath, he nodded and unclenched the fist he coughed into, revealing a lump of petals.

"That's a lot to inhale, even for a nicotine freak," Gintoki commented in a teasing tone. 

And out of all the times he had coughed up these white petals, this was by far the most easily explained one, seeing as he was surrounded by blooming trees in spring. Yet for a reason Hijikata isn't sure of, he tried to get off topic with one of their playful bickering sessions, while the alarming feeling that something was definitely not right started getting more and more certain. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Shinsengumi resumed their role as the defenders of Edo under the reign of Princess Soyo. Due to the fact that the police force had recruited many people since the last time they’d left the barracks, and had never officially been reformed until now, their old headquarters became no longer capable of containing all members of the Shinsengumi. So, until readjustments are made, Hijikata and some other members each had to rent their own place.

This all suits him just fine, since the coughs have been getting stronger and more persistent, and he’s not ready to have anyone know about it yet. He knows he should probably see a doctor about it, but then what? They’ll tell him to stop smoking or some shit, give him some medicine and that’s it. He’s not even sure if coughing up flowers warrants a visit to the doctor. But if not then who could help him? A botanist?

Hijikata sighs and rubs his temples. It’s been a week since the cough came back with full force and he’s been wondering about what he should do all the time, yet nothing seems right.

Glancing at the clock, he decides it’s time to head out. Maybe if he could just busy himself with the newly founded government and the reformed police force, he’ll be able to forget about these ridiculous coughs and they’ll go away like they had before.

As if to spite him for thinking that way, another coughing fit attacks, leaving behind a lump of petals and – he squints – are those  _leaves_?

Steadying his breath, he walks out of his apartment and tries to will away the dread spreading through his guts.

 

 

 

 

 

“Tooouuushiiiiiii!”

He barely has time to register his name being called before he’s pulled into his commander’s affectionate hug.

“Kondou-san.” He turns to face Kondou after he’s released his grip, and is met with a bright smile.

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Kondou exclaims. “It doesn’t feel right not living under the same roof anymore, when we’ve all shared one for years.”

“We saw each other just yesterday morning,” Hijikata replies with a chuckle. Though he guesses Kondou is right, he does miss sharing a roof with the noisy men of the Shinsengumi.

“Still!” Kondou pauses for a moment, and stares at him, a worried frown forming on his face. “Hey Toushi, you doin’ alright?”

Hijikata raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t…look so good,” the brunet replies hesitantly. “You seem…I don’t know, worn out? Have you been pushing yourself too hard again?”

The concerned inquiry startles Hijikata. He hasn’t realized he’s started to look bad. A quick thought of how it’s actually for the best he’s not living under the same roof with anyone right now crosses his mind before he discards it in favor of digging up an excuse to answer his commander with.

“Well, it’s – uh – yeah. I was – I had this, this thing I’ve been looking into recently,” he stutters out.  _Fuck, that was pathetic. Do better._ Gathering his wits, he continues more calmly: “It’s just a case I was working on when I was stationed in the countryside a couple of months back. Nothing major, but I got curious,” he shrugs for the record, and offers a sheepish look that says  _you got me_. “You know how I am.”

The act, fortunately, works and he sees Kondou relaxing a little bit, even with the disapproving frown on his face. “I do, but please take care of yourself, Toushi.”

“I will, Kondou-san. Sorry for worrying you.” He smiles at his commander and with that, they move on to another topic.   

Hijikata spends the rest of the day praying he doesn’t cough in front of Kondou, and if he does, then it would pass quickly. In the end, he ends up coughing a couple of time in others’ presence, and the effort of trying to swallow the more violent coughs pays well that he only gets asked if he’s okay twice while shrugging it off.

It’s pathetic that he has to keep looking for empty corners and bathroom stalls to have his respiratory tract assaulted by innocent-looking white petals and God knows what other parts of a plant he’s coughing.

It’s even more pathetic that he has to sit for a minute or two to steady himself and stop his body from shaking.

He doesn’t know if this is a legitimate illness or not, but it’s starting to ruin his everyday life and he’s had enough. He’s visiting the hospital first thing tomorrow. For now, he just wants to go home and sleep, his body is worn out and his head feels like it’s splitting in two.

 

 

_Art by[Inami ](https://littlebigmunchkin.tumblr.com/)<3_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks for my dear friend Inami for the beautiful Toushi fanart! ILOVEYOU CHILD!!! <3


	3. Chapter 3

“Hanahaki disease?”

The doctor sitting in front of Hijikata nods with a sympathetic look on his face. “You have probably heard about it before too, Hijikata-san. It caused an epidemic about three years ago, when an Amanto shipment imported into the country had mistakenly contained seeds of the koibana plant.” Apparently reading the question on his face – and guessing Hijikata, in fact, did _not_ hear about this before – he further elaborates: “The koibana is an Amanto plant; its seeds are as small as the earth plants’ pollen grains. That gives the seed the same ability to flow freely in the air, and people could inhale it without even realizing it. It’s completely harmless under normal circumstances, and the susceptibility related to it is very much like any normal allergy. That is, it depends on the person’s body – immune system, to be specific – and whether they’re going through – ah – certain conditions to elicit a response.”

Hijikata frowns. “What conditions?”

The man clad in a white coat clears his throat before speaking. “The seed starts growing and flowering when its carrier is experiencing unrequited love.”

Blink. His brain is filled to the brim with question marks and _what the fuck did I just hear?_ that Hijikata can barely force out an, “excuse me?”   

“The susceptibility – that is, your immune system’s reaction to the seed – is not enough to experience the harmful effects. This seed has settled inside your respiratory tract, but there’s no way to know how long it’s been there for. Unless provided with suitable conditions to allow its growth, the koibana seed could be latent for a whole lifetime without causing any harm to the carrier. As it is an Amanto plant, I’m afraid to say our studies have not discovered its growth mechanism yet. But,” the doctor swallows, “clinical observations have shown that it feeds on the emotions of a person harboring a one-sided love. As absurd as this diagnosis sounds, Hijikata-san, you are unrequitedly in love with someone, and your feelings are causing the koibana to grow. You have an actual plant growing inside your body right now.”

Hijikata has been feeling numb since halfway through this – fucking _ridiculous_ – explanation. He has no idea what to think right now and he’s not really in complete control of himself since he’s probably staring and gaping at the doctor.

He doesn’t even have time to let it all sink in before the other man continues throwing What The Fuck Bombs at him.

“The longer time you leave this matter, the more the plant will develop and the worse your condition will be. Soon enough, it will puncture your lung and spread to the rest of your body, damaging more organs as it grows. There is an urgent necessity for an immediate action to be taken to cure you of this disease, Hijikata-san.”

“…cure?” Hijikata manages to ask.

The doctor nods. “It can be cured by two ways. The first one is, simply, if your love becomes requited. If the person you’re in love with loves you back, the plant shrinks until it’s down to its previous size of a seed, only, it will be completely inactivated after this. The second way, in case your feelings remain unreciprocated, is a surgery. We will have to take out the plant from inside your lungs and wherever else it has spread. The sooner the operation is done, the higher chances of success and lesser side effects you’ll have.”

Hijikata is growing more and more confused by every word the other man utters. His thoughts are all over the place, he’s got hundreds of arguments and questions whirling in his head, yet nothing is getting pushed out of his throat.

The doctor offers him a few moments to compose himself and take it all in, which Hijikata would have been thankful for had he been able to make sense of this situation and didn’t feel like an unfortunate victim of a baseball bat bashed into his head a couple of times.

Apparently, the man’s mercy is only limited to a few seconds of silence. “Ah, and one last thing concerning the surgery, should you decide to go with it: once the plant is removed from your body, the romantic feelings you’ve had for the person you’re in love with will disappear.”

As if he wasn’t told enough information to produce the headache of the century, this one is just the cherry on top.  

 

 

 

 

 

He excuses himself before the doctor – Yamanaka? Yamada? Maybe Yamamori? Does it even matter? – could say more to add to his growing panic.

Finding a bench under a tree shade, Hijikata decides to just sit there and stare at nothing, while replaying the whole conversation again in his head.

After years of witnessing and experiencing the weird shit Amanto stuff could cause, this weird-ass disease doesn’t seem that implausible. It shouldn’t really, when he had been converted into an actual screw driver at one point, but it _is_. It’s weird and random as fuck and pathetic and he has no idea where to start naming all the reasons why this is completely fucked up.

Letting out a sigh – which turns into a small coughing fit, the bitch – he buries his face in his hands while resting his elbows on his knees and just tries to sort his thoughts out.

So he’s actually sick. An illness caused by some weird-ass seed of some weird-ass Amanto plant with a stupid-ass name.

And said seed is now growing into a fucking plant inside his fucking lungs because he –

This is the part he just doesn’t understand.  

What unrequited love was that Yama-something guy talking about?

Hijikata swallows. This is a train of thought he doesn’t want to start.

But if he doesn’t face it, he could actually _die_ by choking on some fucking flower.

He refuses to die like that. Sougo would literally laugh at his grave every day. The Demon Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi killed by some plant growing inside his body because he apparently decided to look for romance where he shouldn’t.

_It's a fucking joke!_

But what romance is this? Since when had he developed one-sided feelings for someone?

Hijikata’s hands slide from his face to grip his hair.

He – he only fell in love once in his whole life.

He wouldn’t say he’s in love, but he also doesn’t think he’ll ever get over her.

But this just doesn’t make any sense.

Because –

Because as far as Hijikata knows, his feelings for Mitsuba were not one-sided.

He’s pretty damn sure his love for her wasn’t unrequited.

So why?

_…maybe it’s unreciprocated because she’s –_

_No_ , he stops himself. That changes nothing. He’s always been aware that Mitsuba felt something for him. Everyone knows it.

And if this seed has been in his body for years, then why is it only now that it’s started to grow?

Letting out a frustrated huff, Hijikata leans back on the bench, tilts his head back and covers his eyes with his forearm.

So, what now?

He’s not getting anywhere. The whole idea of him being in love with someone is so foreign that Hijikata honestly doesn’t know how to dissect it.

_Could it be someone else?_

He lets out a snort that turns into a violent cough. The fit feels like it lasted forever before he could breathe again.

His hands are trembling and his head feels dizzy, and _God his chest_. It feels like – well, like there’s a fucking plant growing inside and pressing on his lungs and it fucking hurts.

He needs to figure this out soon. He needs to get to the root – bad choice of words – of all this before it actually kills him.

He doesn’t fear death, but he’ll be damned if something this stupid is why he dies. He would rather ask Sougo to personally assassinate him than die a pathetic death like this.

He’ll get through this. He has to.

He just needs to know what’s killing him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koibana means Love Flower in Japanese. A very cliche and unoriginal name, I guess, but hey, it works out.


	4. Chapter 4

So he doesn’t know what’s killing him per se, but he knows how he’ll die.

Because he’s alone in his apartment with a fucking monster.

A monster that, with his shitty luck, recognizes him very well and is giving him a menacing smile that tells Hijikata he shouldn’t worry about his illness after all.

Because he’s alone in a room with a fucking Dakini who apparently goes berserk if you breathe near the flower atop his head.

Well, at least this death won’t have Sougo laughing at his grave, that brat did try to run away with his life from these damned Dakini that one traumatic visit to the public bathhouse.

As if reading his thoughts, the monster’s grin becomes even wider, as if promising that death won’t come so nicely.

Hijikata very much does not flinch. He does _not_.

“So, Hijikata-san,” Hedoro starts, and Hijikata does _not_ jump in his seat, “would you like to start telling me what’s bothering you,” _being in the same room as you, for starters!_  “Or would you like me to tell you about your condition?” _as in how you’re going to kill me!?_ Hedoro sends him another death-promising grin.

Hijikata tries to swallow his so-not-there fear ( _it’s just survival instinct kicking in!_ ) he stutters out a, “Y-you can s-start first,” then, just in case it helps his cause, “please.”

 Hedoro clears his throat. “Well, Yamamori-sensei informed me that he filled you in on the basics of this disease, so I will try my best to help you figure out what you want to do from now on.”

So Yamamori-sensei is the name of the man who sent him to his death. Okay.

“Hijikata-san, if you don’t mind me asking, are you in love with anyone right now?” Hedoro tentatively – as much as a goddamn Dakini monster is capable of mustering – asks.

But that’s good; it distracts Hijikata from his panic ( _fucking survival instinct!_ ) as the one topic he’s been bothered with for the last two days is tackled.

“I’m not,” Hijikata frowns. “At least, it’s not something I actively think about or pursue.”

“Oh! So that means there is someone you’re in love with?”

Hijikata scowls. He doesn’t see how any of this is supposed to be of any help. He knows that’s got nothing to do with it. He doesn’t see why he has to talk about _feelings_ and _love_ with a fucking Dakini.

It seems his hesitation answers Hedoro, as he starts prodding more. “Is there any reason that stops you from being with her?”

Hijikata grits his teeth. Why is this happening to him? He doesn’t even know where to begin answering this question. Because he was never good enough for her? Because he knew he’ll just ruin her? Because she deserved so much more than a man who spends his life on the battlefield, making more enemies day by day? Because –

“She’s dead.”

His voice sounded so hollow to his own ears that it catches him off guard for a second, but he recovers well before Hedoro is capable of forming an apology.

“I – I am very sorry,” the Dakini lowers his head. “I did not mean to sound so insensitive.”

Speaking seems too much a hassle so he settles for a pathetic shrug.

“Has she passed recently?”

Hijikata shakes his head. “Been around three years.”

Hedoro frowns, confusion written all over his face. “Three years?” Hijikata nods. “That’s – well. Do you remember if these coughs happened before she passed away?”

“It didn’t,” Hijikata answers. “I’m pretty sure I remember the first time it happened, it was months after.” Letting out an exasperated sigh, he asks, “What’s that got to do with anything? That’s not why I’m having this disease.”

“Hanahaki disease is, as Yamamori-sensei must have previously explained, based on one having unreciprocated, unrequited, one-sided feelings for another. I understand your reluctance to share your personal feelings and private thoughts but it is vital in your condition.”

The deeper they go into this topic, the more irritated he feels. “Look,” he growls, all previous feelings of panic and fear of the monster sitting in front of him forgotten, “she has nothing to do with this. She died long before I had this cough and I’m pretty sure my – it was not one-sided. Neither unrequited. Neither unreciprocated.”

Hedoro looks at him in confusion. “It was not?”

Hijikata just glares.

Hedoro stops talking after that, seems to be lost in thought for awhile, which suits Hijikata just fine, he needs to calm down. He takes a deep breath and revels as he exhales it smoothly. He’s called up his doctor a couple of hours after storming out his office two days ago asking for cough suppressants. The doctor warned him that the medication won’t be as helpful as they should be with his condition, but just being able to inhale without his lungs feeling like they’ll collapse is a great feat right now.

It was that same phone call that resulted in this shitty situation right now, though. His doctor recommended him a specialist in Amanto plants, an Amanto botanist so to say, to discuss his condition with further, as he’d have more experience in the development of his disease. He promised that talking to this botanist will help Hijikata figure out where to go from this point.

That asshole did not mention the botanist was also a member of one of the three strongest clans in the universe. It also explained why he was persistent that “It’s a private talk, so I wouldn’t want to intrude! Please let me know if you need any medical guidance, though!”

Hijikata was so busy cursing the coward little shit of a doctor in his head that he didn’t register Hedoro calling him at first. “Uh, yes, sorry, what?”

“I was wondering if you’ve experienced any more,” Hedoro scratched the back of his neck, and Hijikata knew this was going to get even more awkward, “recent romance? In the last three years?”

“No, uh, not really.” _I can’t believe a Dakini is discussing my love life_ , Hijikata did all he could to stop himself from groaning.

“Hijikata-san, it is very important to confirm this,” Hedoro’s tone had a warning edge to it that alerted Hijikata. “Are you sure your feelings were not one-sided?”

Hedoro was staring at him in a very unsettling way, and not because the sight of his face scared Hijikata shitless. He forced himself to keep his gaze fixed on the Dakini as he answered him. “Yes,” Hijikata nodded, “I’m positive.”

Hedoro nodded. “Then allow me to tell you this, Hijikata-san,” squaring his shoulders, the Dakini stated: “You are in love with someone else.”

Hijikata stared.

“I know it seems unconvincing, having someone else decide that for you. But you seem to have fallen in love with someone in the past three years, and have not realized it yet.”

“No,” Hijikata blinked a couple of times. “I haven’t – there’s no way I wouldn’t know it. And – “

“Hijikata-san,” Hedoro interrupts, “I understand. I understand how confused you must be right now, but that is the only explanation. It happens, someone not realizing – “

“I am not!” Hijikata shouts, jumping to his feet and moving to stand in Hedoro’s face in a second. “Don’t you fucking dare tell me what I feel! Who the fuck do you think you are!?”

“Hijikata-san, please calm – “

“No! You barely talked to me for ten minutes and now you talk like you have me all figured out!”

Throwing all thoughts of preservation, of not getting on the Dakini’s bad side, out the window, he keeps yelling.

“How dare you play it off like it’s nothing?! What do you know about me? – ”

“Hijikata-san, please calm – “

“ – About her? I’ve never stopped loving her for over _ten fucking years_! – “

“Hijikata-san!”

“ – You don’t get to play it down just so things could make sense to you! You have no right!”

“ _Hijikata-san!”_ Hedoro raises his voice and just like that, Hijikata stops talking.

And starts coughing, very, very violently.

It’s the worst he’s had so far, he can’t even move his hands to reach out for the inhaler in his pocket that he was told to use when he needs immediate relief. He can’t hear anything over the loud ringing in his ears and the sound of his cough, he can’t think anything outside _this is it_ because it’s really happening oh god he can’t breathe, he can’t he can’t he can’t –

 

 

 

He opens his eyes with a bit of a struggle, and all he sees is white. Everything in his head is pleasantly blank for a few seconds before the memories come rushing and he realizes he’s in a hospital and he’s miraculously not dead yet.

He registers the oxygen mask on his face, the heaviness of his limbs and the ringing in his ears. He tries to move his head to see if anyone else is in the room with him and is relieved when he finds no one.

It feels like it’s taking him forever to push himself into a sitting position and take the mask off his face. His head is spinning and the annoying ringing is not going away. He feels so goddamn exhausted but he needs to leave the hospital room right now, before anyone comes in.

And because whatever force of nature has been a bitch to him lately, the door opens at that exact moment.

One look at who it is and Hijikata feels everything in his body has been replaced with dread.

The “Toushi,” that comes out of Kondou Isao’s mouth matches the panicked, sickly worried expression he’s wearing very well.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to wish you all a Happy New Year! May 2019 be filled with happiness and success!  
> Secondly, I'd like to apologize for how it's taken me forever to update this story! Uni stress and exams and assignments left me no chance to work on this, so now that I'm on my winter break, I'll try to update this story as often as I can!   
> I hope you've enjoyed the story so far!


	5. Chapter 5

Hijikata doesn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncomfortable being in the presence of his Commander – if he _ever_ felt this level of discomfort. Kondou Isao is looking at him with such devastation; it physically hurts to maintain eye contact with him.  

Feeling the silence getting heavier with every breath, Hijikata forces himself to break it. “Kondou-san, I…” he rasps, voice scratchy and his trachea burns with every word. “It’s just – “

“Before you say it’s just you overworking yourself,” Kondou interrupts, frowning, “or anything along the lines that I know you’re gonna feed me, I should tell you, Yamamori-sensei has already shared your condition with me,” he finishes, voice laced with so much sadness, fear, disappointment – all kinds of emotions Hijikata would rather die than have his Commander direct at him.

Except he _is_ dying, so he lets it slide in favor of dealing with the more pressing dilemma: that piece of shit doctor has disclosed his condition to someone without his approval, this is a clear broach at his patience privacy rights! He clenches his teeth, wills his anger to subside for now and deal with the man looking at him like he owes him an explanation.

Hijikata truly believes he doesn’t.

“I pulled a rank on him to disclose your information, you know,” Kondou states. With a shrug he says, “You weren’t going to tell me anything, and abusing my position was the only thing I could do to know why I _got a call saying you were in the goddamn ER!_ ” he shouts.

Hijikata flinches. He could count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Kondou Isao this upset. Even less when directed at him. He doesn’t know what to do.

“How long were you planning on hiding this, huh, Toushi?” Kondou’s voice is heavy and cracks every two words. “Were you ever gonna say anything?” then he shakes his head, answering his own question. “Of course not, you probably would have let yourself suffocate to death before you uttered a single word about it.” The bitterness in his words does wonders to worsen Hijikata’s already deteriorating mood.

Hijikata tries to inhale as deeply as he can, tries to calm himself, because apparently he’s at that level of illness where agitation gets him into the fucking ER.

“Kondou-san, please calm down,” he manages out. “You just said we’re in the ER, you – “ he pauses to cough out a particularly annoying petal tickling the back of his throat, which adds flame to his already burning trachea. He winces and tries to school his features and swallow down the sudden flare of pain before continuing.

“Here.” Hijikata finds a cup of water right in front of him, and his Commander’s voice is suddenly so soft, nothing more than a gentle whisper. He nods his gratitude and takes a much needed sip.

After deeming himself capable of speaking again, Hijikata chances a look at his Commander, who’s looking right back at him with so much worry and concern and hurt and –

Hijikata looks away, frowning.

Kondou sighs, and sits on the chair next to the bed. “You’re not in the ER anymore; they moved you to a separate room, since your condition stabilized.” When Hijikata fails to respond with anything but an understanding nod, Kondou tries again: “What are you planning to do about this, Toushi?”

Hijikata sighs. “I don’t know yet. I can’t even wrap my head around the fact that I have such a disease, to begin with.” He shrugs. “I’m probably gonna end up having the surgery, but first I need to know,” he swallows, “I need to know what’s causing this. Because no one is giving me a sound explanation and I won’t risk – I won’t have the surgery until I know what I’m losing.”

He won’t risk having his feelings for Mitsuba removed just so he could live another day. He doesn’t know how much Kondou has learned about his condition, or if he knows the whole reason Hijikata is here is because of that fucked up conversation he had with Hedoro, but seeing how Kondou looks like he expected this answer, he figures his Commander has been informed about the heated discussion he shared with the Dakini.

Kondou looks like he’s gathering his courage to speak, and Hijikata just wishes he drops this conversation altogether.

“Toushi you know – you know it can’t be her,” his Commander starts, slowly and hesitantly, like he’s worried Hijikata will be sent to the ER again with every word he says. “Yamamori-sensei said the main cause of this disease is having unrequited love for someone,” he looks helpless as how to finish this train of thought in the gentlest way, but he ends up just gesturing with his hands, opening and closing his mouth a few times before just shrugging and concluding with, “You, me, Sougo, _everyone_ knows that this wasn’t the case with you and Mitsuba-dono,” Kondou gives him a withering look. “She loved you. Even when we last saw her, even when she was engaged to someone else and on her deathbed, she loved you, and you _know_ that.”

Hijikata twists the sheets with his clenched fists and looks anywhere but at Kondou. He can’t do this right now, he doesn’t _want_ to do this right now.

“Look, Kondou-san, I – “

“You need to stop denying this.” In a moment, Kondou is off the chair and is sitting on the edge of the bed, and willing Hijikata to look at him. “This denial, Toushi, this denial is what’s gonna kill you,” he says desperately.

Hijikata feels a sudden wave of anger taking over him and he does nothing to quell it this time. “You just let two practical strangers tell you that I must be in love with someone else and that’s killing me and according to their medical and _botanical_ experience, based on _shit_ , they decided that I can’t be in love with the one woman I ever felt this way about, because it _doesn’t make sense_ to them!” he growls, spitting out the words with all the disgust he feels about the situation he’s in. “How very fucking convenient!”

Kondou shakes his head, the look of desperation not leaving his face. “You need to think this over without denying the possibility. Please, Toushi.” He grips Hijikata’s shoulder. “I know you, Toushi. I’ve known you before you met Mitsuba-dono, I’ve seen you love her, I’ve seen you give up on a life with her,” his eyes start watering, “I’ve seen how you never showed an interest in a woman after her, I’ve seen you mourn her, and I know, _I know_ you would never let yourself love anyone else. I know you would hate yourself because you would think you don’t deserve to love anyone else because you hurt her and I know you’re gonna guilt yourself to your death if this goes on, so please, _please_ , Toushi, stop this denial. Please.”

By the end of his speech, Kondou was sobbing and clutching Hijikata’s shoulder like a lifeline. And Hijikata was too numbed out by the words to do anything, to _feel_ anything.

Hijikata doesn’t know how long they sat there, Kondou’s breathy sobs and his sniffling the only sounds filling the silence. It felt like forever before the Commander of the Shinsengumi got a hold of himself and calmed down.

“Toushi, I just need you to know this,” Kondou started, his voice trembling and heavy with tears, “You are one of the most important people in my life. You’re my Vice Commander and my best friend and my brother. You’re the sword I fight with, and the wall I lean on, and you’re the person I trust the most with my life, my men, my Shinsengumi, everything,” he shook Hijikata’s shoulder, “And you’re one of the smartest and wisest men that I’ve ever met, one of the most honorable samurai I’ve ever known and the thought of you dying, the thought of losing you _frightens_ me. Being told by a doctor that you’ve been suffering through a possibly terminal disease, that you’re _well on your way to death_ , is scaring me and killing me and I can’t bear the thought of watching you live in denial to your grave. I can’t. So please, if you’re not willing to live for yourself, then do it for me. Do it for the Shinsengumi. Please.”

To say Hijikata’s caught off-guard by his Commander’s speech would be an understatement. He’s positive he’s never seen his Commander break down like this ever before, even during Itou’s ordeal. It pains him to see the man he holds higher than anyone else in his life plead with such desperation because of him. It pains him to see he’s causing the fearless Kondou Isao all this fraught. It pains him to see the goofy Commander of his with the largest, brightest smile break into sobs and tears because of him.

There’s a lump in Hijikata’s throat that he has to swallow before he can utter out a single, whispered, “Okay.”

Kondou looks at him with equal amounts of desperation and hopefulness, “Okay?”

Hijikata nods numbly, “I’ll work this out, I – I won’t…” he raises one hand and holds his Commander’s wrist with it, squeezing in reassurance. “I won’t die over this. I promise.” Then, he tries to lift the corners of his lips in a small, but not fake, smile. “I live for you and the Shinsengumi, after all. I won’t die for anything or anyone else.”

He almost starts doubting his words because they send his Commander into another bout of tears, before the hands clutching his shoulder slip to grip his back in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, Toushi.”

Hijikata huffs a chuckle and pats his Commander’s back, “No, Kondou-san,” he responds, his voice warm with affection, “thank _you_.”

_For reminding me that I need to live regardless of what’s killing me now._

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been forever since the last update! Uni REALLY slayed me this past semester and I couldn't find the inspiration to write more of this fanfic, and I treasure it too much to write it halfheartedly!  
> I hope you managed to enjoy this emotional roller coaster. Toushi's denial is gonna take a pretty big part of this story, and I'm sorry if this emotionally drains you out, but it's a must. Also, I adore Toushi and Kondou's friendship, so Kondou's gonna be an important part of this story! :)  
> On the bright side, guess who finally shows up in the next chapter? ;)))))))  
> AND I PROMISE THE NEXT UPDATE IS NOT GONNA TAKE MORE THAN A WEEK, MAX!


	6. Chapter 6

Hijikata stares at the sign of the establishment he’s contemplating entering, and thinks about how desperate he really is to resort to this place.

The words _Kamakko club_ stare at him with all their pink and heart-filled glory.

Hijikata sighs. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and lately he’s been nothing but desperate.

Desperate for a drink, to get so drunk and forget about all the shit he’s been dealing with lately, without having strangers forcing their logic on him or comrades giving him these worry-filled looks.

Kondou had assured him back at the hospital that no one knows about his condition but him, that Sougo specifically hasn’t sniffed this out yet, and that he’s telling all their men that their Vice Commander has a tricky case he has to focus on so they won’t be seeing him around much until it’s solved.

And Hijikata knows that he can count on his Commander to keep this between them, to keep his men in check while Hijikata isn’t around, but he doesn’t trust anyone, including himself, to keep anything from Sougo when he wants to know something. Hijikata is not going to kid himself; he knows it’s a matter of time before he’s forced to have a much-dreaded conversation with Sougo.

So for now, he’s avoiding him. He’s putting in a lot of effort not to run into anyone he could possibly know. So drinking at a normal bar, or any of the stalls he frequents, is out of question.

And while he knows walking into Kabuki-chou is basically stepping into a minefield, he trusts that no one would think of finding him in an okama club. Why would they? Hijikata himself would have laughed manically while murdering whoever told him that weeks later, he’ll be going into an okama club for a drink.

As it is now, Hijikata forces his feet to move forward, quickly before he actually runs into all the hoodlums he knows in Kabuki-chou.

It’s not like the drag queens of Kamakko club and him are complete strangers, really. They fought together during critical times. They’re just the right amount of strangers, though, to stay at an acceptable distance while tending to his requests.

He walks into the dimly lit hall of the club, a couple of drag queens are on the stage performing some type of dance. Hijikata scans the room for an empty table, seeing that there are a good number of patrons seated already, when one drag queen approaches him.

“Good evening, sir! May I he – Hijikata-san?” the man squeaks.

It takes a few seconds before Hijikata recognizes the man. Or at least, recognizes his chin. “Ah – yes, hello, um Ago – “

“Azumi,” the man says sharply before forcing a hesitant smile on his face, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

He doesn’t really blame him; he almost can’t believe it himself.

Greeting him with a nod, Hijikata states his request. “I would like a table as far away as possible from everyone else, please.”

Azumi raises his eyebrows. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out for a few moments before he gathers himself and nods, starts walking and asks Hijikata to follow him.

As requested, his table is at the furthest corner of the room. “I would have provided you with one of our special guest rooms, but they’re all occupied at the moment, and this is the most private table I can offer you right now,” Ago – Azumi explains apologetically.

Hijikata shakes his head. “This will do, thank you.”

Ago – Azumi nods. “I’ll send someone to you in a jiffy!” he says and walks away before Hijikata can voice his complaint.

He doesn’t want a drag queen keeping him company; he just wants to drink in peace!

Hijikata sighs again, this one turning into a slight cough. Breathing has been getting harder and harder every day. Every breath is more difficult than the one before it, and he knows he needs to schedule for the surgery soon.

And he will. He really will. The conversation he had with his Commander three days ago at the hospital already decided that for him. He’s just –

He’s just trying to buy more time to overcome his denial and accept the possibility of having fallen for someone in the last three years, someone that isn’t Mitsuba. He wants to know who he’s giving up on.

He’s so deep in this depressive train of thoughts that he doesn’t notice the drag queen approaching his table until he’s right in front of him, staring him down. “Well, well, well,” the familiar voice drawls out mockingly, “this is a surprise.”

Hijikata feels his eyebrows climb up to his hairline while his jaw drops. _No_ , he screams internally, _no no no nononononono this cannot be fucking happening!_

“You – what – why – “ Hijikata stammers out. His mouth is doing this stupid imitation of a fish where it opens and closes uselessly. A cough or two force their way out.

Gintoki smirks. “I should be asking you that, esteemed Demon Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi.” The smug, mocking tone grates on Hijikata’s nerves.

Hijikata scowls. “I don’t need to explain anything to you, bastard!” he spits out.

The Yorozuya shrugs nonchalantly, moving to plop down right next to Hijikata. “Hello, my name is Paako and I’ll be your company for the night,” Gintoki says in a falsely pleasant tone. “What would you like to start this lovely night with, asshole-sir?”

“Asshole-sir? Paako? What the _fuck_ , Yorozuya!?” Hijikata takes in the pink kimono, the makeup and the weird hairdo. “Since when do you work here!?”

Dropping the act, the perm haired man scowls at him. “Order something first, I need a strong drink to deal with this nightmare I’m in right now.”

“You!? _You_ need a strong drink!? Think about what I must be feeling then! Coming to an okama club of all places and still running into you! I don’t think I’ve done enough sins to deserve this kind of shitty luck!” Hijikata all but shouts, but it proves to be a wrong move, a sudden pain in his right lung jolts him and he has to do everything humanly possible not to clutch at his chest and scream.

He manages to dig his nails into his thighs and school his features into a slight wince while a groan escapes him.

The silver haired man buys his act as one of dramatic theatrics accompanied by his rant. He snarls back at Hijikata. “My thoughts exactly! Why should be I be serving a nicotine-breath jerk like you? I’d rather get on stage and wiggle my ass around than tend to whatever twisted kinks you’ve hidden, bastard!”

(Nicotine-breath, even intended to be an insult, is far from being accurate right now since Hijikata can’t remember the last time he’s had a smoke.)

Hijikata tries his best to lift a hand, shaking violently with all the pain he’s feeling, into his inner pocket to reach for his inhaler. He’s suffocating, but his chest is killing him, the pain is blinding and he prays his inhaler will do something about it before he passes out and gets sent into the ER again.

“You better not be ignoring me, you bastard!” he hears Gintoki say. Fuck he can’t have the natural perm around for this, Kondou-san alone is bad enough, he refuses to deal with more people –

“Get us,” he grunts, “the strongest sake,” fuck this hurts so fucking much he can’t he can’t he can’t, “this place has,” his voice cracks but he’s so beyond caring, it’s a miracle he manages to get the words out in the first place.  

The Yorozuya seems far too in his bitchy mood to notice Hijikata’s dilemma and snaps at him with a, “Fuck yeah I will, bastard! And don’t order me!”

As soon as Gintoki has his back to Hijikata, the black haired man has his inhaler out and is taking one puff after another.

It helps with the feeling of suffocation a bit, but it does very little to alleviate Hijikata’s agony.

He doesn’t understand this. Nothing could have warranted this abrupt deterioration in his condition. He’s not even actually, truly agitated. Not really. The Yorozuya and him bicker like this all the time, so what gives?

He needs to do something about this pain, he needs to go to the fucking hospital or something. But he has no idea how to even move from his spot right now, this pain won’t let him get very far.

The sound of a bottle hitting the table surface snaps him out of his thoughts. “This should get us tipsy in a couple minutes,” Gintoki grumbles.

Hijikata quickly hides his inhaler back in his pocket and his fingers resume their vicious digging into his thigh, while the perm haired man pours their drink. He shoves a filled porcelain cup Hijikata’s way and takes his, swallowing a mouthful of his drink and grimacing at the taste afterwards.

That’s it, that’s all he can do right now, fill his system with alcohol to numb this excruciating pain. He wills his hand not to drop the cup as he struggles to bring it to his lips, pathetically shaking all the way. As soon as his lips touch the porcelain surface, he swallows the whole thing in one go, the burn of alcohol feels like nothing compared to the feeling of his lung getting ripped open.

He slams his cup onto the table and tries to breathe.

“Damn, what’s got you so winded up?” Gintoki asks jokingly. Hijikata doesn’t trust his voice right now so he reaches out for the bottle to refill his drink. He grips the bottle; the action of pouring into his cup proves to be too much in this agonizing pain.

 Gintoki is staring at him, he knows he’s staring at him, he can see the thoughtful frown forming on his face. “Hey, you okay?” he hesitantly asks.

Hijikata’s unsteady breath, coupled with his obviously clenched jaw, the angry scowl he has on to cover the pained wince, and his slightly trembling figure answer Gintoki better than any word could.

“Mayora…?” the silver haired man’s hand is touching his shoulder gently, just enough to get Hijikata to look at him.

And then the weirdest thing happens: one look at Gintoki’s openly troubled frown, a worried crease between his eyebrows which are pinched together in genuine concern, and something in Hijikata’s chest shifts, like whatever pressure that’s been ripping along his lungs disappears and his breath comes out easier.

The pain, suddenly, is a dull, small burn instead of an all-consuming, explosive fire. Hijikata doesn’t think the sake could have worked that fast, but if it did, then he’s buying a hundred bottles of this blessed drink.

He manages to find his voice to utter a raspy, “I’m fine.”

Gintoki, instead of relenting his hold on Hijikata’s shoulder, grips it more tightly. “You don’t sound very convincing, frankly.” He draws closer, running his gaze all over Hijikata’s face and his frown deepens. “And you look like shit, even more so than you usually do, shithead.”

Hijikata honestly has no idea what’s going on, but he feels like his lungs are functioning better by the second, and his breathing is becoming steadier. He regains full control of his voice in the next, more truthful, “I said I’m fine, Yorozuya.” He meets the perm head’s eyes for good measure.

Gintoki still looks unconvinced, but at least he releases his grip on Hijikata’s shoulder and draws back a bit. He’s still sitting considerably close, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be putting any more distance between the two of them. Hijikata strangely doesn’t mind or care enough to move himself.

“So what’s up with you?” Gintoki asks, his tone a lot more casual than it was a moment ago, his way of dropping whatever just happened. Hijikata’s grateful for that. “Why is the Demon Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi coming to an okama club for a drink?” he raises an eyebrow.

Hijikata shrugs. “Didn’t wanna run into anyone I know tonight. Wanted to get drunk in peace.” Casting Gintoki a playful smirk, he teases with, “But then you happened, as usual.”

Gintoki snorts. “As if I actually needed you of all people to see me dressed up like an okama and using my customer-service attitude.”

“What customer-service attitude? Your attitude is as shitty as ever,” Hijikata grumbles.

“Shitty tax-thieves with mayonnaise breath don’t get to be graced with my superior customer-service attitude, asshole,” Gintoki snaps back. He pauses to down more of his drink, before continuing. “But no, like, why here of all places? This place sure as hell doesn’t offer your type, now, does it?”

Hijikata scowls. “What would you know about my type, asshole?”

Gintoki raises his eyebrows in challenge. “Don’t I?”

“Ha? What does that me – “

And then he remembers. Gintoki met Mitsuba, he visited her hospital room as Yamazaki told him, talked to her and got to know her, and he was at the rooftop when Hijikata had allowed the grief to take over him.

His chest constricts painfully, but Hijikata’s willing to bet it has less to do with the disease and more to do with Mitsuba’s memory.

Whatever look he has on his face, it allows Gintoki to read his thoughts because he quickly amends, with forced casualness, “I meant Tomoe-chan, you know.”

_That_ snaps Hijikata out of it. “Ha?”

Gintoki smirks teasingly, mockery dripping from his words. “You know? The anime girl, Tomoe-chan? Whose figurines you have hidden in your closet where you think no one would look but Okita-kun has at least ten photos of, that he’s storing for future blackmail?” His face takes on a full shit-eating grin. “Tomoe-chan.”

Hijikata feels his face burning by the time he manages to shout his defense. “That’s Tosshi’s figurines, not mine, you sadistic pieces of shit!”

The silver haired sadist only wiggles his eyebrows while keeping his shit-eating grin present. “Oh, _really_? Really, now?”

Hijikata punches the bastard’s shoulder. “Fuck you! Yes, _really_ , and fuck – I don’t owe you any explanations! Fuck off!” he screams.

The Yorozuya’s shoulders shake in barely suppressed laughter, which still bleeds into his, “Okay, okay, geez.”

“What’s the deal with Paako, anyway?” Hijikata asks, amusement evident in his tone.

‘Paako’ sighs dramatically. “I’m broke, Saigou thinks I make a decent drag queen and the pay is worth it,” he shrugs. “I’ve been doing it on and off for years, ya know. Not just me, there’s also Pachie here somewhere,” Gintoki gestures in the room’s general direction, “and the customer’s favorite: Zurako, who’s been on hiatus for awhile.”

Hijikata cringes. “I can imagine who Zurako is, but Pachie...don’t tell me you dragged your kid into this.”

“Hey, it’s good money!”

“You’re supposed to teach the boy how to be a respectable samurai, not a drag queen!”

“It’s part of the journey to make him a full-fledged samurai! What would you know about that anyway, shitty tax-thief!?”

“Fuck off, like you actually pay any taxes!”

“You’re still a tax-thief either way!”

“I’m the Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, you asshole, Edo wouldn’t be Edo without us!”

“Keep telling yourself that, tax-thief!”

Hijikata swallows a mouthful of his drink – which cup is this? Third? Fifth? – and flips Gintoki off.

He hears Gintoki slam his cup before he says, “So.”

Hijikata grunts in response. He’s pleasantly tipsy, probably more than tipsy but he’ll be damned if he stops now.

“Where have you been lately?” Gintoki mutters.

Hijikata glances at him. “What do you mean?”

The Yorozuya shrugs. “I see your gorilla around, and Okita-kun, even Robozaki. But you? It’s like you’ve fucked off the face of the planet for the last couple of weeks.”

Normal, sober Hijikata would have panicked over how to come up with a lie to answer Gintoki with. The Hijikata of right now, though, whose chest feels lighter than it has in such a long time, who’s more-than-tipsy, respond with a playful, “Oh? Missed me much, Yorozuya?”

“Ha? Who’d miss your ugly mug, bastard!?” Gintoki snaps loudly.

“You, apparently.” Hijikata smirks teasingly.

“In your stupid, twisted dreams, mayo-breath,” Gintoki grumbles.

Hijikata chuckles and reaches out for the bottle, finding it empty. “Oi, Yorozuya. Make yourself useful and go get us another bottle of this.”

“Fuck you, I don’t take orders from you,” comes Gintoki’s automatic response.

Hijikata swats the natural perm. “Asshole, I’m paying for this shitty service of yours, go get us a fucking bottle right now before I get Saigou to fire your ass.”

“Make me, bitch!” Gintoki challenges, bringing his face right in front of Hijikata’s and glaring – more like squinting stupidly – at him.

Hijikata must be pretty drunk, because some weird sense of thrill runs through his blood at the silver haired man’s proximity, while something weirdly pleasant flutters in his stomach.

He brings his face closer, their noses almost touching, their breaths mixing and their eyes staring into each other’s. “I’m pretty sure I have the money to ask Saigou that you, ah what was it? Oh yeah, _wiggle your ass around_ for me.” He smirks at Gintoki’s blown-away expression. Feeling braver, he lifts a hand and pats Gintoki’s cheek with it, “So would you rather dance for me, or get us another drink, _Paako-chan_?”

Hijikata’s drunken haze lets the fact that he rested his palm on Gintoki’s cheek rather than remove it go unnoticed. He’s too focused on the Yorozuya’s stupefied expression, his slightly reddening cheeks (drunk? Embarrassed?) and his dilating pupils. He feels his smirk widening and his eyebrows rising in challenging mockery.

Gintoki draws in a sharp breath and jolts back and away from Hijikata. He rubs his face with his hands, letting them rest there, before a weak glare peeks out between his fingers. “I think you’ve had enough sake for the night, asshole,” he mutters.

Hijikata frowns. “No I haven’t.”

Removing his hands from his face, Gintoki raises an eyebrow at him. “You wanna get even drunker than this?”

Hijikata nods. “Yes I do, so go get the goddamned bottle.”

“This isn’t like you. What’s got you so upset that you would wanna get so wasted and forget instead of facing it like you always do?” Gintoki asks curiously.

For the life of him, Hijikata doesn’t understand how the words slip out so easily. “Strangers deciding how I feel,” he blurts out. “Telling me that I can’t love her anymore, that I must be feeling it for someone else and I – I don’t want to feel this way about someone else,” Hijikata feels a lump growing thick in his throat, that he struggles to push the words out, “I can’t forgive myself if I ever forget her and move on. I don’t want to.”

Gintoki looks so caught off guard for a second, before he schools his expression into a thoughtful blank. He stares at him for a moment and Hijikata feels like he’s about to unravel him, and he’s too drunk to have his walls up, too drunk to do anything but sit there and have the Yorozuya figure him out.

But then the silver haired man looks away, as if not allowing himself to see something he knows Hijikata isn’t fully sober enough to let him see willingly. He looks around the room for a moment, lost in thought.

With a huff and a resigned smile, he turns his gaze back on Hijikata. “You think you can make it home alone?” He chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this helplessly drunk before.”

“I’m not drunk,” comes Hijikata’s thoughtless reply.

“Sure you’re not,” Gintoki agrees with a teasing tone and an amused smile. “Stay here, I’ll get changed and take you home.”

“Wha – I don’t need you to – “ but Gintoki was already gone before he could finish his sentence.

Feeling offended at the implication that he can’t take care of himself, Hijikata stubbornly gets up, dumping enough money on the table to cover for the sake and the Yorozuya’s shitty company, and he stumbles out of the club.

Walking does prove to be a challenge, his feet uncoordinated and his head feeling so light and there’s a pleasant buzz that’s increasingly blocking any coherent thought from forming in his head. He thinks he caught a, “Thank you and come again, Hijikata-san!” from Agomi before he’s on the street.

Struggling to navigate the road back to his apartment, he stands in the middle of the road for a second, before he moves in his apartment’s general direction. A couple more steps and he accidentally steps on a small pebble that throws his barely balanced weight off and he stumbles and his head hits a wall to his side, and the fall is only eased by his hand catching on the wall in time to soften the blow. “Fuck,” he mutters.

He hears the sound of a familiar, genuine laughter that messes up his gut somehow, before turning to find Gintoki (now looking like the useless bum Hijikata knows) reaching out for him, the remnants of laughter on his face. One of his hands grabs Hijikata’s left wrist, lifting it to rest on Gintoki’s left shoulder and keeping his hold firm, while his right arm snakes around Hijikata’s waist to hold him against him.

“Let’s get you home, dumbass,” Gintoki says in a weirdly affectionate tone. But Hijikata’s drunk so it can’t actually be affectionate. Whatever.

“Fuck off, I can get myself home,” Hijikata slurs.

“Alright, alright, then just play along with me. I heard you got yourself an apartment and I’m offended I haven’t been invited over yet,” Gintoki complains playfully. “Just tell me where to go.”

“…your monster of a neighbor is the only one who came over to my apartment,” Hijikata states distractedly.

“Ha?”

Hijikata only shrugs in response to Gintoki’s evident confusion.

The walk is filled with comfortable silence from then on, only interrupted by Hijikata slurring out the directions for his apartment.

Finally seeing his apartment building in sight, he points it out to Gintoki.

“Hijikata-kun,” Gintoki says, tone serious and gentle, and there’s something about it that sobers Hijikata up a little. Maybe how he called his name without any insult, without drawing out the –kun in a teasing tone. They stop walking and he glances at Gintoki.

“I don’t really understand what’s wrong. Or what’s upsetting you. I don’t even know if your explanation meant what I understood. But I still think you should hear this out, no matter how much it might rub you the wrong way,” Gintoki pauses, swallows, and tightens his grip on Hijikata. “Loving one person doesn’t necessarily mean you stop loving another. Holding one person dear doesn’t mean the others aren’t important anymore. And moving on – moving on doesn’t mean you’re gonna forget, doesn’t mean that person isn’t important anymore, it’s just,” he lets out a long breath and shrugs, “it just means you let go of the grief you have every time you remember them, so that you can keep the fond memories close to you. You’ll always love them, and you’ll always keep their memory with you, but that shouldn’t be an excuse for you to stop yourself from letting more people into your life, from loving other people and valuing them. That’s just – that’s not living.”

Gintoki glances back at him and their eyes are locked on each other. He gives him the most genuine, heartbreaking smile. “Believe me, I would know,” he whispers.

Looking back ahead and resuming their walk, he concludes with, “What I’m trying to say here is…it’s up to you if you don’t wanna feel the way you felt about her towards anyone else. But if you did, if you couldn’t control your feelings and it happened with someone else, it doesn’t make you the bad guy.”

Squeezing his left wrist lightly, he casts Hijikata a gentle, reassuring smile. “It doesn’t make you wrong. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

Hijikata feels his body going on autopilot. His legs keep moving, but he doesn’t register anything anymore. He is hit with so many emotions all at once yet it feels like he’s so numb at the same time, it’s all so contradicting and there’s an overload of information and emotions and thoughts all jumbled in his head and he can’t sort them out.

The only thing Hijikata registers as they walk the last remaining steps to his apartment is how he hasn’t felt this urge to cry in years. His throat is burning and his eyes are stinging and he feels so messed up and he’s desperately trying to hold himself together and not break down right where he is.

He stops in front of his doorstep and detaches himself from Gintoki. He fishes his keys out and unlocks his door with a trembling hand.

“I – “ Gintoki blurts out, before shutting up. Hijikata doesn’t think he can look him in the face right now. He doesn’t want Gintoki looking at his face right now, because he’s not sure what kind of an expression he has on but it’s probably an incredibly raw and vulnerable one.

But also, because the thought of slamming the door shut in the Yorozuya’s face after what he just said to him is absolutely unacceptable to him, he says with a pathetically cracked voice: “Thank you.”

He feels Gintoki shifting beside him. Shrugging, maybe.  

“You – you know where I live now,” he mumbles, “so come over and bring good sake with you, sometime.”

It takes a moment before he hears Gintoki responding with a, “Yeah,” and he swears he hears the smile in his voice.

It brings a smile on Hijikata’s lips too, even among all the emotions wreaking havoc at his heart and mind right now. “Good night, Gintoki,” he whispers.

“Good night, Hijikata-kun,” is the last thing he hears before he walks into his apartment and shuts the door.

He doesn’t cry.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the thing: I saw a couple of spoilers from chapter 703 and I rushed to write this before I actually read the chapter and not want to touch antyhing Gintama with a 10 feet pole for a couple of weeks. 8)   
> That being said, I hope Gintoki's appearance balanced out some of the angst from before! And I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I slept at 11 am (I stupidly started working on it at like 5 am, never do that y'all!) trying to finish it.   
> Thank you for your constant support and I hope I didn't disappoint! :D


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